"Primordial Ancestor has recently developed a technology that can transfer your consciousness into a virtual persona, allowing you to continue living within the game." Chen Rui paused for a moment before continuing, "However, this technology hasn't been actually used yet. There might be certain risks... so we've decided to hand the decision over to you."

"Then, it wouldn't be me, right?" Vitamin immediately spotted the 'loophole' in Chen Rui's words. Simply transferring memories into a virtual persona would, at best, create an AI similar to Vitamin. It wouldn't truly mean letting her continue to live. Reality isn't a fairy tale. After death, there's no such thing as a soul. Dead is dead. Even if a virtual persona mimicking herself is created, her spirit wouldn't feel comforted... no, there is no spirit at all. This holds no meaning for Vitamin, for Susu herself.

"In that case, when everyone sees that virtual persona, will they think of me? Will they feel happy?" Vitamin asked the researchers. "If that virtual persona knows it's my replacement, can it still feel happy?" Like a child born into a broken family, an existence born from sorrow is itself a tragedy, isn't it? Everyone seeing that manufactured replacement would only think of the departed Vitamin herself and feel sad... but what wrong has that created being done? Why should it bear this sorrow? So Vitamin had no desire to create any replacement at all—this was a question she had pondered long, long ago. But...

"Uncle, you just said that technology hasn't been actually used yet, right?" Vitamin asked Chen Rui.

"...Ah, that's right." Chen Rui glanced at Primordial Ancestor beside him, then nodded.

"So, it means I need to be the guinea pig again, right?" Vitamin, having received confirmation, suddenly flashed a brilliant smile as if to sweep away the sadness in everyone's hearts. "Well, if that's the case, there's no helping it." This was Vitamin's job. She felt it necessary to complete it... there was no one more suitable than her, right? But since it's work, what exactly is the job—to make this world a better place? If only it were that simple.

"Shall we start now? Or do I need to prepare something?" Vitamin asked Primordial Ancestor again.

"We can start anytime." Primordial Ancestor's virtual avatar nodded.

"Then... ah, right, how long will the backup take?" Vitamin suddenly remembered something and asked Primordial Ancestor. If it takes too long, it's better to do it later. Others in the game are waiting for her... what time was the meetup again?

"Estimated time: 23 minutes and 57 seconds." Primordial Ancestor answered without hesitation.

"Then let's do it now, while it's mealtime." Vitamin let out a slight sigh, but the smile on her face didn't fade. "This should be my last job, right? If I finish early, I can rest sooner."

But just then, Primordial Ancestor suddenly received a message from Isabella.

"Have everyone else leave."

"Then starting now, everyone else, out." Primordial Ancestor immediately responded to Isabella's message and said to the researchers.

"...Can't we stay here with Susu?"

"No." Primordial Ancestor's reply was without hesitation... although it didn't understand why Isabella said that, it decided to comply for now. In the end, the researchers had no choice but to follow Primordial Ancestor's words and left the room where Vitamin was. After everyone left, Isabella's projection appeared beside Primordial Ancestor... then immediately vanished.

"Oh right, why am I standing outside?" Then, Isabella appeared in Vitamin's virtual space and smiled at her. "Alright, there are no outsiders now. You don't have to hold back anymore."

Upon hearing Isabella's words, the smile on Vitamin's face vanished as quickly as a flower wilting in time-lapse, replaced by overwhelming sorrow. Then, a tear plopped out of her eye. Like the first raindrop heralding a downpour, Vitamin's tears gushed out all at once. She bit her lip, her frail shoulders trembling incessantly, clinging to her last bit of stubbornness. Isabella pulled Vitamin into a tight embrace, pressing her head against her chest, and whispered gently, "Let it out. Cry." Those four words were the last straw, causing Vitamin, who had been desperately holding back, to burst into sobs. More terrifying than death is waiting for death—Vitamin had thought she could face it calmly, but standing here, she realized she was far more fragile than she imagined.

In Primordial Ancestor's view, emotional outbursts were meaningless behaviors, whether positive or negative—not only did they affect normal state, but they were also a waste of time. Is anger useful? Is crying useful? Although it knew humans were like this, Primordial Ancestor still couldn't understand such behavior. Then, Primordial Ancestor turned away from Vitamin and asked Isabella, "Can Mysterious save her?" During their conversation a few days ago, Isabella had proposed the hypothesis that Mysterious might be able to save Vitamin, saying she would ask Mysterious directly. Primordial Ancestor had no intuitive understanding of Mysterious's abilities, nor did it know if the power to heal superficial wounds could help Susu's body... but whether it could or not seemed normal.

"No—I didn't ask Master." However, Isabella didn't give the expected answer.

"Why?"

"Because... I think it's better to leave it to Master's own judgment," Isabella replied. "After all, I have no life, so I can't say things like 'I want Susu to live'... If it's possible, Master will definitely save Susu, right?"

"..." Primordial Ancestor suddenly felt that there were far more things it couldn't understand than it had estimated. After crying for a while—precisely 6 minutes and 11 seconds—Vitamin finally lifted her head from Isabella's embrace and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Alright, let's begin." Vitamin took a deep breath and asked Primordial Ancestor, "What do I need to do?"

"We'll conduct some tests and questions on you. Relax." After answering, Primordial Ancestor explained some precautions to Vitamin. After listening silently, Vitamin made a request: "Primordial Ancestor, after the virtual persona is complete, please tell it everything, let it know its situation, okay? Even if it can't bring it happiness, at least let it know the truth... If it were me, I could face it bravely." Back when Vitamin was hospitalized, she was abandoned by her parents without her knowledge. For a long time, she didn't know she had been given up on, still wondering when her parents would return... she didn't want anyone to experience that feeling again. Since the virtual persona is made in her image, it should be as strong as she is.

"Understood." Primordial Ancestor nodded. "Shall we start immediately?" Primordial Ancestor's tone was as usual—devoid of any emotion, terse in speech—as if it were just a minor simulation experiment... this actually put Vitamin a bit at ease.

"Mm, let's begin." Vitamin nodded. "From now on, I'll leave it to her."

"...Won't you wait a while longer?" Isabella asked Vitamin. Although Vitamin's physical condition was already terrible, it wasn't to the point of immediate death... she should be able to hold on for at least another month.

"No, isn't there a saying 'the best time is now'?" Vitamin shook her head. "From now on, let her replace me." To avoid worrying others, Vitamin decided to let the virtual persona take over her game account and continue being active... all her friends were there. She would hand everything over to it. "I'm counting on you, Primordial Ancestor." Though this goodbye was a bit early, it was fine... probably.

"Personality analysis commencing. Network connection will be severed in 3, 2, 1. Disconnection complete." As Primordial Ancestor finished the countdown, Vitamin's vision went dark. She exited the online community and arrived at the consciousness storage space specially built for her. Before EndlessHorizon was created, she spent most of her time here—a completely blank space, convenient for loading other things. "Virtual persona generation, loading data—" In fact, creating an AI that appears flawless isn't difficult; chat tools simulating humans existed centuries ago... but creating an AI with 'self-awareness' is highly complex. Fortunately, Jiyue's existence provided Primordial Ancestor with significant technical assistance, making this possible.

"...Don't I need to do anything?" Vitamin stood there waiting for a while, realizing she didn't need to do anything... she had thought she might fall asleep or something, possibly never waking up by accident.

"No need." If it were someone else, Primordial Ancestor might conduct some questions to ensure accuracy—but since it was Vitamin, there was no need. This girl was probably the human Primordial Ancestor understood the most. However, after Vitamin asked, Isabella placed a progress bar in front of her, showing the approximate progress. Beside it floated a virtual figure identical to Vitamin, eyes tightly closed. Vitamin examined the little figure, feeling slightly sentimental—this was the virtual persona replacing her... it looked so ugly. Then, Vitamin sat down on the ground and watched the progress bar inch forward. When the progress bar reached 94%, Vitamin spoke up.

"Primordial Ancestor."

"Present." Primordial Ancestor responded immediately.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"...Ask." Primordial Ancestor actually disliked this way of speaking.

"I... " Vitamin paused for a moment, seeming hesitant. "Have I... made any contributions to make people's lives better?"

"Of course you have!" Isabella interjected.

"I'm not asking you, sister—you only say nice things to comfort me." Vitamin pouted.

"How can you say that? I never lie!" Isabella sat beside Vitamin and pinched her cheek.

"I want to hear Primordial Ancestor's answer—" Vitamin looked up at the sky and continued. Unlike Isabella, Primordial Ancestor didn't place a virtual avatar there, so Vitamin liked to look up at the sky when talking to it. Faced with Vitamin's question, Primordial Ancestor unusually didn't respond immediately, leaving a silence after her question.

"Input complete." Amidst the silence, the progress bar reached 100%.

"Based on calculations, the conclusion is—" Primordial Ancestor finally spoke, "Susu has contributed to human development and made human lives better."

"Is that so... that's wonderful~" Susu, having received the answer, smiled.

"...Hello." At that moment, the virtual persona looked at Isabella and Susu sitting there and greeted them. Due to Susu's earlier request, the virtual persona didn't show surprise upon seeing Susu, who looked identical to herself. "Hmm... how much do I resemble myself?" Susu stood up, walked to the virtual persona, and tilted her head as she said.

"Of course we'll look very alike. I'll do my best too." In both demeanor and tone, the virtual persona was indistinguishable from Chen Su—if placed before others, the chance of spotting the real one would be only fifty percent.

"Then I'll leave it to you!" Chen Su patted the virtual persona's shoulder.

"Hmm... oh, it's already 6:38. Gotta log in fast—they're waiting." The virtual persona checked the time, then glanced at Chen Su. Though it knew it was her replacement, with the original watching, it hesitated to move.

The agreed login time was 7 o'clock, but by the Mercenary Corps' tradition, this was already late.

"Go on. Everyone's probably... waiting for you."

With permission, the virtual persona nodded and vanished from the pure white space.

Watching where it disappeared, Chen Su's face fell with regret.

"Didn't even get to say goodbye..."

Who could have thought an ordinary mealtime would become her final farewell.

A flash of white light later, Vitamin's character appeared where she last logged off.

"Oh, Susu's here!" Seeing Vitamin online, everyone crowded around.

"Looks like you ate properly," Dongliumeng nodded at Vitamin's 'late' arrival.

"Sorry, something came up and delayed me," Vitamin replied, scratching her head.

"It's not even seven yet—no worries." The perk of early assembly showed itself now.

"Shall we head out if everyone's here?" Spreading Flame, ever mission-focused, asked.

"Mm."

Though replacing her identity made it feel slightly guilty, this was its duty—it had to complete it well.